The Red Rose Isn't Ib's
by MoonSpider95
Summary: Tamaki Suoh found himself alone in a haunted art museum! But, he has found a ragged poor man who may be of some help! Comedic one-shot.


**Author's Note: This began when I took a look at some Shimeji I had - animated computer buddies, very cool - and notice Tamaki and Garry ... each with their signature roses. XD After that, I had to try this crossover, at least once, lolz.**

**I own nothing.**

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Tamaki ran through the halls of the now-empty art museum. This was supposed to be a fun field trip for students at Ouran Academy! Suoh had never been more frightened. First, the lights flicker. Then, he finds that everyone, including his beloved "daughter" Haruhi and the rest of the Host Club, had disappeared. After that, the exhibits began to come to life and attack him! The entire place was evil! He couldn't help but think Nekozawa must be responsible for this somehow.

Upon opening another door, a lady in blue – still in her picture frame, mind you – was feasting on a sparkling blue rose which was similar to the sparkling red one he had found and began to carry. Running, he lured it out and then ran back in to retrieve it, figuring it pure magic. He was able to outwit the painting by locking it outside of another room. He placed the noticeably worn and dying blue rose into a vase, which had restored it to full vitality.

Upon further wandering, he found an odd young man lying on the ground, collapsed. He had silver hair and was clad in ripped jeans and a torn jacket. The man must have been living in deeper poverty than Haruhi! Forget the living painting, statues, and mannequins; he must have collapsed from pure starvation! Unfortunately, he had no food to give. Tamaki made amends by placing the blue rose in his hands. To his surprise, the gentleman started to wake.

"Ugh … W-where … No!" he shuffled himself away from Tamaki, fearing him to be another exhibit from the museum. Soon enough, he realized he was another harmless museum-goer who had found himself in the same situation he had.

Tamaki reached his hand out to him, sparkling in beauty more radiant than his own red rose. "Come, poor man! You should be ailing no longer! Surely, my generosity knows no bounds for I had not only brought you to life but I insist that, upon finding a way out of this wretched museum, I promise you a feat to which your mind could not behold! Oh, you poor thing! When I think of the poor people forced to go hunt for their every meal without any pure drinking water in sight! Why, I just want to- -"

The young man interrupted him. "What the … I'm not poor! Good god, this is the _style_ of my clothes! Thank you for getting my rose back, but …"

"Oh." Tamaki's mood switched back to being concerned. "Then it must have been those evil exhibits!"

"Yeah." He started to relax some. "It seems that our lives and our roses are connected. If the rose wilts, we are hurt. If the rose dies, we die."

"Scary…" Tamaki was as frightened by that manner of speaking as a three-year-old. "I suggest we team up against them! There is power in numbers, after all!"

"Good idea." He broke in, before the idiotic blonde could begin another speech. "My name is Garry, by the way."

The gentleman resumed his poses. "I am Tamaki Suoh, heir to the wealth of the Suoh clan and President of the Host Club at the elite Ouran Academy."

Garry frowned. "Right. I remember a group of rich kids in the museum." _Stuck up, wouldn't-last-a-day-on-even-the-safest-streets rich kids._ He reluctantly accepted. "There IS power in numbers. Just don't let that rose out of sight. It's your life-line, after all."

10 minutes.

10 minutes they had been walking together. It was 10 minutes too many. Tamaki would not stop talking the entire time. As friendly as Garry was, there was a limit to how much he was willing to put up with. Still, he wore a false smile and kept his mouth shut about everything. Admittingly, the man could run fast. While he did not appreciate the time they were both 'startled' by a painting and Tamaki jumped into his arms, causing them both to fall, it was still much better than being alone.

Garry wondered why it had to be _this_ man to endure this with him. They were the same age but acted nothing alike. Surely, there must have been someone more decent at the gallery. Someone with brains, a sprinkle of courage. A girl, perhaps. But no. The red rose belonged to Tamaki.

He listened to Tamaki babbling again about his Host Club, as he tuned him out many moments ago. The rich boy continued, "You are rather rough and ragged, but I believe there are many girls who would find that fascinating! Perhaps you would be a new type of host? The Rough-Around-The-Edges Type? Your appearance is poor without being ragged. It's gothic without being dark! My, how popular you must be!"

Garry facepalmed. _How on earth did this man survive for so long?_


End file.
